


Simulation Theory

by smallchittaphon



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Character Death, Government Conspiracy, M/M, Multi, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22137895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallchittaphon/pseuds/smallchittaphon
Summary: The week starts off abnormally disjointed.There’s a weird twinge lingering in the air as the summer daze merges into crisper autumn nights, the sun setting earlier, fewer hours of daylight. Jisung doesn’t know why he feels like something is on the cusp of arriving, but he’s sure it’s nothing. Maybe a new shipment of prototypes he ordered for his pitch meeting will come sooner than normal, or maybe he’s on the verge of something great— but his body thumps and tingles abnormally.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Park Jisung, Lee Jeno/Park Jisung
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13
Collections: WIP OLYMPICS: WINTER 2019/20





	Simulation Theory

**Author's Note:**

> \-- tags update with each update because i dont want to spoil anything for the overall story  
> \-- this is a huge project for me, i have the whole thing outlined and it's not even like a quarter done so,,,, sorry i won't have an upload schedule for chapters but i will try my best to not let too much time pass in between chapters  
> \-- thanks to the people who had to listen to me whine about this project: mishel & milo— who was there when i initially had this plan for such a big adventure and encouraged me [even if i don't talk to one of them now it still mean a ton], vivi— who looked over my very first draft, hara— who edited my second draft of this chapter, lee— who gave me general feedback, and yoon— who looked over it last before i posted  
> \-- this was inspired but the muse album 'Simulation Theory'  
> \-- i really hope this is good for you guys, i am truly proud of this fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-- [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/70ytF4TI3cY0jJAFlQu2Cs?si=zfGWlsM2R_ecBA9a99rP1A)  
> \-- [MV](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9LgLcDg15SM)  
> \-- [pinterest board](https://www.pinterest.com/smallchittaphon/the-simulation-theory/p1-pressure/)  
> 

The week starts off abnormally disjointed.

There’s a weird twinge lingering in the air as the summer daze merges into crisper autumn nights, the sun setting earlier, fewer hours of daylight. Jisung doesn’t know why he feels like _something_ is on the cusp of arriving, but he’s sure it’s nothing. Maybe a new shipment of prototypes he ordered for his pitch meeting will come sooner than normal, or maybe he’s on the verge of something great— but his body thumps and tingles _abnormally._

-

That morning, Jisung pushes past a group of rioters. Ducking his head with his chin tucked into his jacket so he doesn’t make eye contact seems like a solid plan. Mornings are getting crisp and cold, a perfect excuse for Jisung to start wearing the company jacket and not get a sideways glance from Yangyang at his desk. Hopefully, Yangyang’s weak will will surely makes convincing him that getting a new jacket is worth it easier. ( _Yangyang has refused every year but he can try, especially when he sees the holes on his sleeves_.)

The subway is far more crowded than it needs to be at 6 a.m. The rioters slow down the clockwork the usual riders have down pat. Jisung catches the sign before he’s close; big, red, bold letters reading: “ _Time’s up for all of us and the end is nearer than you think_ ”. Total bullshit, obviously, as Chenle would say. One of the rioters tugs his bag, forcing him to stop or risk ripping his bag, so he turns to her. Her eyes are set deeply in her skull, Jisung would use the world purple to describe her. She’s almost all bruised up, lips dried and her hair cut short enough for Jisung to see the time behind her right ear. ( _10 days, 6 hours, 8 minutes, 7...6...5…4 seconds)._ When he looks back at her eyes, she scowls.

“Time’s ticking,” Her voice coils and settles right in his chest. Jisung frowns, “Time’s constantly ticking.” 

She shakes her head, taps his wrist, his clock (‘ _20 years, 4 days, 13 hours, 45 minutes, 19...18...17...16 seconds’_ ) before she speaks again, “Something’s not right about these.”

But what would Jisung know, he’s only ever lived in a world where time counts down, time decides your course of action, your life, your personality. People get lost in their own head, time being a looming reminder that it’s short, fleeting, _fast_. Jisung thinks she might’ve lost her way like the legends they use to telling to get him to stop misbehaving. 

His breath comes quickly.

_Clunk!_

And then, a rioter drops dead with a guttural sound.

Jisung jumps, yanking his arm back from the rioter’s grip as she turns to another rioter. No emotion behind her shrunken eyes and the timer beeps and beeps before the body shuts off, chest stiff, color gone from their eyes and Jisung knows they’re dead _dead_ . “Oh god.” He huffed, hands shaking and the crowd disperses—bodies pushing past him to get away from the commotion. He shakes his head. “ _Oh god_ ,” he says when she tries to take his hand back and something changes. 

Her eyes settle deep into his soul, “Time’s ticking.” Jisung feels his stomach drop before he speeds off, quickly hitting his wrist painfully against the train’s gate and it lets him on, doors shutting fast but when he looks up, her eyes are still on him. A shiver runs down his spine before he looks down at his shoes. 

Maybe it’s the change of season, maybe it’s the air, but there’s something coming and Jisung can feel it—but _now_ , he knows it’s not good.

-

Jisung feels rustled as the elevator beeps up to his floor at work. The beep synced with the seconds counting down on his clock and he shakes his head, the rioter dropping dead before him burning behind his eyelids when he shuts them. Heat pricking the back of his neck till the hairs rise. He groans, flustered and frustrated as the doors open up to Chenle-- hot mug in hand, his sleeves already rolled up as they usually are. “You look,” Chenle eyes him over, a grimace on his face, “frazzled.”

Jisung pushes past him to get down the hall towards their desks, Chenle automatically trailing behind him. The clanking of the keyboards, the prevalent smell of instant coffee, and stillness of the office eases Jisung’s mind a tad, the route, the familiarity of it all bring him down and ground him— shaking off that uneasy feeling in his stomach as he slouches in his desk chair. Chenle leans against his cubicle wall and sips on his coffee. He’s watching Jisung stare off, catching the corner of his mouth twitching before he speaks. “Is something bothering you?” Chenle tries, obvious attempts to ease the atmosphere in his diction and tone.

“Something happened today. Something’s just _odd? Off?_ ” responds Jisung, chipped, withholding. His mind is whirling, trying to begin to make sense of what's conspired this morning.

Chenle looks over his shoulder before lowering voice when he says, “Johnny and a couple of other board members were in the break room this morning watching the news coverage on the riots. Is it that?”

Jisung frowns, subconsciously scratching his wrist as he does so, and nods. The riots are a touchy subject in any place, especially the workplace. You never know where people stand, how people tick and talking about something so hush-hush can be… uncomfortable. But there’s always been something unethical to Jisung about the whole thing, about the riots, rioters, the believers, and nonbelievers. Jisung opts out for the easiest answer, something to ease Chenle. “One of them dropped dead in front of me today. It was unsettling, to say the least.”

That eases Chenle’s prying mind. His mug coming down from his lips. The expression that adorns Chenle’s face tells Jisung how weird this morning has been, that he’ll be left alone once Chenle gives him a small semblance of reassurance. “That’s unnerving for anyone to see.” Chenle whispers, “I can see why you’re shaken up.” Chenle says as sets his mug down on Jisung’s tea warmer before rubbing his arm, squeezes just over his elbow. Jisung doesn’t drink coffee but the gesture is appreciated once Chenle backs out into the hall. “I’ve only taken a couple of sips but I think you’ll need it more.”Chenle’s always done that, reassure Jisung without prying.

And with that, Jisung is left to his own thoughts again. 

-

Here’s the thing about timers— their existence can be divided between before and after them. Jisung’s grown up only knowing that timers are their bases for everything and nothing about the time before it. In schools, you learned the basics of timers but nothing too interesting. A few protests against the outlandish laws prohibiting and limiting people with different times that in the end, set up an equal playing field for those with more than enough time and those with rapidly fleeting time. Lessons took up less than a day, two hours at most and that was that. Something about them made Jisung nervous when he became self-aware of the time on his wrist. He’d spent hours upon hours at home with his wrist in view just watching, previous seconds of his life decreasing at a rapid pace and it frightens him to an extent. Jeno tells him to ease up, “Timer doesn’t limit you.”

Jisung guesses that’s true. The timers have ultimately propelled society into the most efficient it can be; Cures are being found faster, things and companies rise within a blink of an eye it seems and that’s because the timers are a constant fire under everyone’s ass. Time is ticking and you can waste it the way you want to but just know, yes, the whole world will judge you for being stupid.

Jisung is always indifferent. At the start of his college career, he had been convinced by his dorm mate to join an activist club against timers. “Timers are bullshit! Who’s to say when I die or not?”

Jisung spent most of the club meetings sitting in the far corners of the room, working on his projects and just hearing them talk for hours on end. He knew they had genuine intentions but it was dealt with very poorly. It was adamant that they were all ‘ _Do first, think later_ ’. Ultimately, the foundations of a movement being too emotional and not planned enough is your Achilles' heel. Most of those against timers were always those mad about the pinch of time they were given, life has put them at the short end of the stick and it sucked. Jisung was the only one in there promised more than 5 years. 

They all hadn’t made it to their respective careers and Jisung feels a bad gut feeling just thinking about it. Jisung knows when the timer runs out, what the timer does— he’s _not_ responsible for that. They embed that into you at an early age, ‘ _Get attached, but not too attached. People die. That’s the power of the timer_.’

Jisung had always thought the system could use some tweaking but who’s he compared to years of hierarchy and moral codes set in place and the people who are appointed to see them through. 

Jisung and timers coexist peacefully. Minors bumps in the road being when he’s launched into the workforce after graduating college, not knowing that companies can ask for the time on your timer but knowing they legally can discriminate because of it. It’s weird putting that at the top of the resume under his email address.

Those that had lived in the “ _period_ ” before the timers “ _dictated_ ” their world, divided amongst themselves because of the moral and ethical codes the timers now enforced and wedged within their day to day lives. All of them claiming they know what had existed before timers—destruction, chaos and more—but Jisung believes that's a bunch of shit. There's no evidence, everything word of mouth and nowadays, everyone wants their ten seconds of fame and get it by fabricating extravagant lies. Aside from the direct connection seen through his extended family telling him the stories they do remember of the world before, Jisung has never actually seen or heard definitive proof that outright states there was ever a world before timers. Timers _are_ the biggest link connecting and affecting the world as they know it.

Those who had praised the timers and compiled always, _always_ , rose higher and faster than others even though they’re told it’s fair. It’s like they’re trying to tint their glasses but it’s so blatantly in front of them, they’re not dumbed down enough to willingly agree to it but they’re also too scared to speak on it, thus making them compliant regardless.

It’s interesting to look back at their history and then look at how it’s shaped Jisung’s world now. All the division despite the efforts to unite, clubs for those who have lost loved ones to timers, businesses catered to all things timer-related, and organized religion surrounding, you guessed it, the timers. For all its worth, Jisung finds the organized religion the better factor of it even if it seems like it's not. They put a lot of faith into them and one thing Jisung wishes he had, their contentment with their lives and their relationships with others that live a peaceful disposition residing in them that allows them to take death with a grain of salt. They see death as the ultimate gift just as birth is. Death is beautiful and inevitable; The timers are just a leeway to give you time to prepare for your time.

Jisung wishes he could view it as just another step of life. And yeah, it is. Death is just natural but, having an expiration date doesn’t allow for you to prepare. Not when you love people and get used to them being around, having them around only for time to take them when they have their whole lives ahead of them. 

And all this hullabaloo leads them to today, the peak of political heat and the minority becoming the majority. Politicians and leaders of the world under the scrutiny of the public's eye for every wrong move, look, or _word_ said that will and _can_ be used to bring them down. The first bursts of riots in major cities have had a bigger affect faster with their massive numbers scaring and threatening the very power those politicians base their positions on. That showed smaller cities, smaller groups that if they yell loud enough, they’ll be heard. 

The first few outcries had shaken the masses but months have passed since then, riots have become a part of everyday life. It’s weird when the news outlets don’t report anything one them. Jisung notices, even when he doesn’t want to pry, even as he plans to cruise through life with his head down, it’s hard not to hear about them. He can only hope everyone else can get through life easy. 

But now, he’s not too sure.

-

Seeing Sejeong’s smile a couple of days after spending a week walking on eggshells, Jisung finally has peace of mind. The warmth she radiates edges into every fiber of his being when she talks, “Jisungie.” She singsongs as she reaches to pinch his cheeks and he lets her tug on them longer than usual before swatting at her hand. She’s always had the same gaze as their mom and even now when they can’t see her, having someone as warm and comforting is much needed. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to the stock faces of his coworkers and the greyish-blue tones of his workspace. “We have to make a quick stop before we eat.” She says, hooking her arm with his.

Jisung ruffles his bangs, “Where to?”

It isn’t ‘til he’s sitting beside Sejeong getting her nails filled in, the color changed, that he realizes she’s tricked him like last time --not that he would protest anyway. He’s so used to the nail shop by now, fondly remembering trips there during his childhood as he tagged along with his mother and Sejeong. He eases the smell of acetone and polish fumes in his lungs after a couple of deep breaths, a strange comfort found within it, even though he knows how bad it is. As much as he doesn’t tell her, Sejeong knows Jisung cherishes every outing they have, every Saturday lunch they’ve planned since she came back from Korea two years ago. He never misses a Saturday and in turn, she tries her best to be the best version of herself for him and his reliance that culminates within that mother figure he needs that she gives.

“How have you been?” She asks. She’s always getting the same design— lilac and chrysanthemum on her accent nail. It was their mom’s favorite color and flower. Sejeong gestures for Jisung’s attention away from the TV against the wall of the salon, snorting as he also sees her toes stuck under the UV light. She bucks at him, almost pulling her hand away and he flinches. “Good, I guess.” He answers and he can already hear her saying ‘ _that’s not an answer_ ’. The news is playing even louder over the already loud top 40 hits in the shop, riots festering and getting bigger. It’s starting to cause a disturbance across cities, Jisung’s mouth tightens as the anchors announce a mandatory shut down of certain train stations around the city where the hub of it all grows.

Sejeong watches too. The shop stills and even as the techs work, you can see them glance up to look at the coverage of the most current riot bustling in their town. Jisung turns away from it to pick at his hangnail. “You know how mom used to make those paintings of seasonal flowers and sell ‘em?” Jisung asks.

Sejeong jerks in her seat, the question coming out of the left-field but she smiles softly. Jisung huffs, “I saw one of her paintings at one the companies offices. It sat over a console table that had a vase full of, obviously, plastic sunflowers but the moment I walked into the reception area and saw it,” He rubs a knuckle in his eye, “I knew it was hers. I didn’t think I’d see one I haven’t seen already.” Sejeong laughs and Jisung nudges her leg with his shoe.

Sejeong took their family home when their mother passed. Their father too overcome with grief to be there for too long, said it held _too much_ of her in the house itself. The walls in the living room, dining area, the hallway, even over the toilet— her paintings. Most of them were flowers, she loved them the most but just by Jisung’s old room, she had hung a painting of his hand when he was one month old, his little fingers spread and tangible through the blend of colors. Her paintings did that, made it feel real and sturdy. Now when Jisung is over for a dinner with Sejeong and her husband, Dongyoung, he gets to see them all the time. Like she’s still painting away in the sunroom and the stains on the wood panels aren’t years old and growing older.

Sejeong moves to hook her foot around Jisung’s ankle like she does when she wants to silently comfort him and he hums, tapping one of her knuckles and Nayoung looks at him. “What color for the flower this time, Sungie?”

Jisung smiles, “Yellow.” Like always. Yellow.

-

The only elevator leading up to Jeno’s apartment is a conundrum. Jisung frowns, scratch that, his building is sketchy on its own as a stand-alone but the elevator made Jisung all finicky and tense. For one, it creaks so goddamn loud he’s guaranteed a splitting head each time. Better stand as still as possible the whole ride up or else. There’s always some unknown substance, usually, a murky liquid that Jeno claims is moldy water, whatever the fuck that is, oozing from the corners onto the bottoms of your shoes. Jisung doesn’t want to try to guess what it is half the time but he has an inkling of sorts. The lights flicker half the time or aren't on at all as you board so you ride in complete darkness despite the dim screen telling you what floor you’re on. The kicker is Jisung wouldn’t mind going through the stairwell if it weren’t for it being closed. It’s been closed since Jeno moved in 5 years ago. It’s almost like the building management team just gave up on fixing it and force the borderline inhuman experience of riding their elevators. 

It’s not like Jisung complains much— anymore— more or less it’s that he gets increasingly worried each time he comes over and realizes how much he doesn’t mind riding the damn thing. He gets in, fingers in his ear before turns the copy key for Jeno’s floor, the thing whirls up with a few sputters and coughs before the door closes and he’s in complete darkness. It doesn’t smell as bad as you’d think thanks to the collective unspoken decision by the tenants to febreeze the absolute hell out it every chance they get. Jisung just leans against the railing that is surprisingly not one of the things he complained about, humming a song he’s heard on Chenle’s stupid pop culture podcast he listens to at work. It’s a straight shot up and when the elevator jolts still, Jisung hears his feet splat in the mystery liquid and sticks his fingers back in his ears once the door opens and he makes his way down the hall, greeting Dejun as he makes his way out. 

Jeno’s door is left open by a slip of cardboard and Jisung pushes his door open to see Jeno laying down in the middle of his apartment, all fans on him. The thing about the building is it’s crap but it’s dead cheap, his neighbors really are gems, and for the view, the view you get of the city— maybe, _emphasis on maybe_ , Jisung can gage an idea of why Jeno puts himself through hell to stay here. “Where are the babies?” Jisung yells over the fans, eyes already looking for any sign of the cats. 

“My sister has them.” Jeno groans, sitting up and Jisung can hear the skin of Jeno’s thighs sticking to the linoleum. He reaches over to pull Jeno upright and grimaces. “It’s too hot for them here so she’s watching them until the aircon gets fixed.” 

“Understandable and also, isn’t this like the fifth time it’s broken this summer?” Jeno quirks his mouth and shrugs, so lackadaisical about it like it isn’t a big issue. Which it is. But Jisung’s learned that Jeno is more willing to roll with the punches more often than not. Jeno rubs a knuckle into his eye as he makes his way into Jisung’s space and Jisung’s gravity realigns itself with Jeno. Jeno’s hand falls to his side as Jisung rests his own on Jeno’s cheek. Jisung doesn’t even have to notice that Jeno leans into it before they kiss, sweet, simple and then they pull apart to move around the apartment. 

Jeno’s been a sweetheart since they’ve met, back when Jisung was just coming into middle school and Jeno was the coolest guy in the guitar club. They’ve always clicked easily and it wasn't until two years ago that they both thought, “Hmmm, maybe kissing each other feels nice.” Jisung is indifferent about a lot of things but with Jeno, it balances itself out as Jeno pulls a reaction out of him. Chenle thinks it’s gross when Jeno randomly shows up at their office to whisk Jisung away for a lunch hour spent together. Jisung kinda sees it as hangout with his best friend but sometimes they make out for the hell of it and that’s fun.

“So why did you want me to come over if the aircon is broken?” asks Jisung as he plops himself on the couch, craning his neck over the headrest to watch Jeno stick his head in the fridge. Jeno grabs an ice cube from the freezer and shoves it down his shirt as he looks at Jisung. “I can’t hang out with my boyfriend anymore?” He accuses and Jisung rolls his eyes.

Jisung shakes his head. “Not when it’s sticky hot.” And Jeno actually laughs at that, the ice cube falling out of his shirt and onto the floor. Jisung watches him kick it under his fridge before starts to finally feel the heat sink into his bones. It’s mushy and he can feel his clothes sticking to him. Maybe he should’ve told Jeno to come over to his instead but Yerim wouldn’t have appreciated Jeno’s presence when it’s not necessary for her to interact with him. She doesn’t hate him, she just, quote-unquote, “Can’t look at someone so wholesome like that make out with someone.” Jisung truly is sorry she’s had to see them more than once in the short time they’ve been together.

Jeno opts for laying on the colder tiles of the kitchen floor as they talk, letting Jisung hog the fans that do nothing but blow hot air back at him but he likes to lie to himself and think it’ll cool eventually. “How’s Sejeong?”

“Same old same old. She and Dongyoung are seriously considering having kids now and I told her I’d be a horrible uncle. Would probably drop the kid if it so much as makes a noise.” Jeno snorts and Jisung can see him wiggling his toes, phantom feeling of it against his thighs because Jeno always does that when he doesn’t know what else to ask. It’s nice though, just being together with Jeno because he doesn’t have to think much— he just does. 

Jeno sits up, “Can’t I crash at yours?” 

Jisung hums, “If you can convince Yerim, then yes.” Yerim is the bane of Jeno’s existence, but a stern look on Jeno’s face tells him that he’s most likely spending the next morning with Jeno and his kisses. Jisung is very much pleased with that as he watches Jeno call her and he moves to grab Jeno’s overnight bag. 

Jisung stops at his bedside table to look at the photo of them from when they had started dating. They’re on top of a mountain, the view behind them and Jeno has his cheek pressed against Jisung’s. They look like they’re on cloud nine, nothing better than a newly formed love. Jisung has always loved the photo, the immense joy he gets from knowing Jeno wakes up to see that every day but then again, he’s seen Jeno’s timer. His shoulder tense before he breathes out deeply, not wanting to dwell on the shorter amount of time on it in comparison to his own. Jeno tells him he’s content to die whenever— that’s he’s gotten a taste of heaven on earth and that’s with Jisung. 

The door to the room fully swings open, “Yerim said yes as long as I bring her a twenty-piece combo for the wing place by yours.” 

Jisung hums, “She’s easily bought.” 

“She is but that means I get to sleep in a cold place.” Jisung clears his throat. “And with my lovely boyfriend! Of course.” Jeno clears, pulling Jisung close to nip at his cheeks lovingly and Jisung pushes him off, but with not much effort. 

“Of course.” Jisung chuckles, finally wrapping an arm around Jeno. He pats his hip, “Come on. We better go before I sweat through my jeans.”

-

When it comes to Jeno, Jisung wishes he could view death with such optimism.

Jeno had a much longer time than Jisung’s own when they had met. Along the way, Jisung knew Jeno would outlive him but that was fine. He was content with that. But as fast as timer came to be, it isn’t without flaws. They don’t tell you in school about that once in a lifetime situation when a timer has a fluke.

Jisung had seen it happen in front of him, Jeno’s time rapidly decreasing and Jisung remembers the way Jeno’s breath came out in puffs as they sat in silence watching it. Waiting.

Waiting to see if it would stop or if it would even stop. 

Jisung still had an optimistic view of his world but now, seeing Jeno’s timer stop years behind his and knowing but not fully processing that now, he’s outliving Jeno. He doesn’t feel optimistic then. How could someone who gives and gives so selflessly get the short end of the stick? 

Jeno doesn’t obsess over his lost time like most people think he will. Jisung sees him let out the breath he’s been holding before just putting his hand down and looking back at the rest of their school eat their lunch—all of them unknowingly sitting there while it had happened. His eyes scanning over them as he slowly picks his spoon back up and shovels the rest of his pudding into his mouth like it didn’t happen.

Jisung catches his wrist shakily and Jeno peers at him with a meek smile. “Jeno.” He says softly as if he’ll shatter into a million tiny Jeno fragments if he speaks any louder. Jisung lets his finger slide down to Jeno’s inner elbow, covering his timer so gently and Jeno moves to cover them with his own. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll text my mom after lunch I promise, okay?” Jeno assures _him_. 

Jisung lets it go then; For his sake and Jeno’s ease of mind. 

“You looked exactly how I felt inside and I couldn’t show you that,” Jeno tells him when Jisung asks now, as his boyfriend, and Jisung holds him closer. Jeno moves till there’s no space between them. His hand resting firm on Jisung’s jaw and Jisung basks in it, thrives off Jeno’s presence. “I really started to fall for you then, Jisung.” Jeno lands a kiss under his jaw softly, behind his ear and on the high apple of his cheek. ‘ _I love you_ ’ in a very Jeno way. 

Jisung knows he loves Jeno so much. It scares him how he can’t remember not liking Jeno so much but it pales in comparison to how much Jeno outwardly and regularly expresses his love through touch and whispered words.

Even now, as they lay in Jisung’s bed to sleep for the night, it passes his mind. He lays there with his cheek pressed into his pillow and Jeno laying across from him. Jeno rubs the lower end of his back as they lay there, one of Jisung’s hands resting against Jeno’s stomach easy and the other grabbing his free hand in his own. Jisung can tell Jeno’s succumbing to sleep when Jeno’s hand slows a little, Jeno’s breath audibly starts to even out and Jisung scoots into Jeno’s space just to feel him, stirring him awake enough to register that Jisung is trying to fit against him. He groans a little in acknowledgment before lift the covers up enough for Jisung to slot against him with practiced ease. Like this, Jisung feels smaller, safe and Jeno sighs as he molds himself against Jisung too. His hand slipping under Jisung’s shirt for warmth and under him to hold him.

Jisung hums too, hands over Jeno’s back and Jeno’s soft breath against his cheek. During times like these, Jisung really thinks about it and also feels like they have all the time in the world. They don’t. Jeno has 4 months left now.

“You know if you ask, I’d say yes.” Jisung has told him. Jeno just shakes off the topic quick and Jisung can’t figure it out till Jeno tell him. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to do it just because my time is running out.”

Jisung looks down at their hands, “It’s not an obligation. I just feel like I’ll regret it like we’ll regret it if we don’t.”

Jeno rubs his thumbs over Jisung’s hands to ease him. The topic is dropped and brought up time and time again but now, It’s 4 months till…

Jisung pulls back enough to look at Jeno’s face. “Marry me.” He says with finality. No way for Jeno to change the subject or drop it. Jisung’s made up his mind and Jeno cannot and will not change that. Jeno’s eyes flutter and for a very brief moment, Jisung thinks he might’ve overstepped his place. Jeno kisses him tenderly before whispering “Yes. I will.” against his lips and Jisung’s heart is fluttering like an excited small bird trying to get free from its cage. 

-

Jisung and Jeno get married the following week. It’s nothing too extravagant or over the top. They go to the courthouse after both of them get out of work and the few people they’ve invited are already waiting in front. Just Sejeong, Dongyoung, and Chenle for Jisung; Jeno’s mom, his sister, and Mark for Jeno; Yerim for both. Jisung meets Mark for the first time then, having heard nothing but good things about him but never having the time to see him. Jisung thinks to chat with him more afterward but for now, their party is getting called in and his nerves go haywire.

They’re doing it. They’re getting married and Jisung can’t help the smile that’s permanently ingrained into his face the entire time. They had promised to exchange vows later in private but here, Jeno looks at Jisung like the key to the universe and Jisung hopes Jeno sees the same in his gaze. The wedding couldn’t go any faster for Jisung, giddy with happiness as the judge tells them it’s official now and Jisung rushes over to kiss Jeno. Before they know it, they’re at the buffet down the street, family and friends conversing and eating like any other day but Jeno is sitting across from Jisung, his cuffs rolled up and tie loose and Jisung sees the glint of the wedding ring on his finger.

They’re married and Jeno is his husband and there’s a ring to match Jeno’s one on Jisung’s hand.

Jeno’s eating his steamed broccoli as Jisung soaks in and prints the image of how gorgeous Jeno is in this moment behind his eyelids. Jeno senses it, eyes drawing away from where he’s listening to Dongyoung and Jisung’s heart gives when he smiles at him. Jeno’s beautiful and he’s all Jisung’s. 

-

_Jeno._

_Jeno Lee, this is going to sound cheesy and you are most definitely not going to let me live this down but, just your name alone ignites me. Your name is so_ _velvety??_ _sweet and divine whenever it’s spoken. I think it’s the amount of time I’ve spent with you, alongside you as your best friend, family and then later on, as your soulmate, that the mere thought of you in passing brings me comfort. I’ve always thought you were the coolest guy in the room. No matter how much Donghyuck from algebra swore you were no fun. You walked in and all eyes seemed to be on you at all times._

_My eyes were on you-- at all times._

_I was late with love; For you. Sorry about that, by the way, you know I can be oblivious about some things. You told me, in my childhood bedroom, that you loved me. That you had felt so afraid to even entertain the idea of being with me or confessing because I was always indifferent but I remember just knowing then, that I loved you. At that moment, my world kind of tilted off its axis. Kinda like a new world opened up._

_You’re so beautiful and I know I don’t say it much and I can only hope you’ve known that I think you’re otherworldly to me._

_You’ve always met me in the middle. I think we work because you’re understanding, really I know I can be frustrating and yet, all those years, whether as my friend or as my boyfriend, you’ve just been slow to anger but always fast_ _to un_ _with patience. Sometimes it felt like you’ve put my happiness before your own and I really try my best, my_ _fucking_ _absolute best to put yours before mine because I owe it to you._

 _My life, our life together has been nothing but perfect. I think. Every fight we’ve had from that time in guitar club when I thought you had broken one of my strings, which you didn’t,_ _it was Donghyuck_ _, and then to now, two weeks ago when we couldn’t decide what to have for dinner and I went to bed mad, stomach full, but mad. I want all that with you. The good and the bad, for as long as I can have it._

_Because Jeno Lee, I am, truly, madly, deeply in love with you._

_And if I hear about anything I’ve said from anyone other than you, I’ll end you._

-

The first week together feels like a dream.

Jisung feels like he’s got a permanent smile on his face; He wakes up smiling and goes to bed smiling too. Yerim asks him if his cheeks hurt and he just shrugs. He’s just got a content feeling within him since the moment he and Jeno got home after the wedding. They hadn’t said much except when they had exchanged vows, quietly and in Jeno’s bedroom. It felt exhilarating to just have everything out on the table. For Jeno to know how much Jisung cares and Jeno just gives it back tenfold. 

Jeno holds him tenderly, firmly and kiss him till he sees stars in his eyes, till he’s breathless and the happiest he’s ever been. Married life is great. Jisung thinks letting himself forget about the looming time ticking helps make everything glossy and refined.

Jisung comes home to find Jeno in the kitchen whipping something up for him or in their room, lazily sprawled on their bed as he aimlessly stares up at the ceiling. Jisung watches him as he’s always been amused by Jeno. Jisung’s always wanted to know how Jeno’s mind ticks, how it works but never truly gets it and still doesn’t. Jeno will catch him walking in, making a soft yelping noise as he turns to pull Jisung in for a kiss. “Missed you.” He whispers as the warm palm resting on Jisung’s hip squeezes endearingly. Stuff like that used to get a rise out of Jisung but something about having limited time, Jisung finds that being embarrassed is unless when it comes to Jeno. Jeno likes seeing Jisung beam at him for a compliment or something as simple as saying, “Thought of you while I was at the store and got your favorite.”

Jisung _loves_ Jeno. Loves how Jeno makes him feel wanted and great, warmth spreads through him when he lets himself think about it. Jeno’s smile draws him in and always has even before feelings were realized. Something about Jeno makes him the best person Jisung’s ever had the pleasure of meeting. The dopey look he gives Jisung when he’s pulled out of mindlessly staring up at the ceiling settles between Jisung’s ribs and burns that image into his mind before he’s making his way to Jeno on the—climbing into his lap to kiss him and feeling him radiate all that love he holds in his heart through their senses. It’s dizzying.

And yes, Jeno might sleep talk but Jisung wouldn’t change that for the world. He wouldn’t want to miss out on waking up with Jeno right there in arms reach. Just needing to roll over ‘til they’re slotted together and Jeno half-smiling, closed-eyed, mumbles, “Good morning, love.” Like honey seeping into Jisung’s bones. 

_Oh god_ , Married life is amazing.

-

Jisung thinks the riots have gotten less frequent. The stations have gotten less chaotic and congested within weeks of the government's threats to take action, the action being sending hoards of police to ‘ _peacefully_ ’ maintain the rioters and it’s only been enforced at one station, the biggest one. It’s far easier to get to work again but it was devastating to see thousands get hurt in the process. Jeno’s been keeping up with the stories as it follows. “It’s kinda like we’re reaching a breaking point. Everyone’s on edge these days.” He says, eyes on the newscast with Yerim right next to him.

“It’s all everyone at work could talk about during our breaks,” Jisung adds.

Jeno pulls Jisung’s hand from where they’re linked with his, kissing his knuckle just above his wedding ring. “Is that why you’ve been eating lunch at your desk?” Jeno asks and Jisung sighs before nodding. He squeezes Jeno’s hand before Yerim speaks up. “Some people are saying we should leave town.” She brushes her bangs out of her eyes, growing far too long but Jisung knows she hasn’t gone to cut them since Jeno told her she suited them. “I don’t see the point in that but some people in the office have left out of sheer panic. Just in case I guess.”

Jeno hums, “All we can do is hope for the best. The government isn’t helping by spreading fear into the general public and it's kinda suspicious that they’re so adamant about keeping things hush-hush, I think we’ve reached the worst and it’s only downhill from here.”

Jisung so hopes so. There’s an unspoken tension that’s struck the world. Rioters not only making themselves known in Jisung’s country but in countries around the world, far too many to count and the whole world has got an eye out for it. There’s tension in the workplace, in coffee shops and everywhere. Every day, Jisung feels the tension increase just a tad but enough to make you squirm and pull your collar straight. They’ve been told at work not to talk about it on the clock, which is how everyone gets around talking about it during their break. 

Jisung passes more protest flyers every day, littering the streets, the subways are worse for wear. There’s new spray painted propaganda from the rioters, posters dehumanizing their government officials and on their social accounts, people either being vocal about their detest or their utmost support of the theory; the theory that the world governments banned together to give everyone a timer for population control.

Jisung just wishes it would end. 

-

It's when Jisung finally goes back to work when things seem to solidify in his mind that time is a fleeting thing. He feels himself forcing his energy in the morning, pulling himself unwillingly from Jeno's warmth. Jeno's still got a month left of work before the country mandated 'Timer's leave'. He'll spend his last 2 months tying up ends so he can ' _rest in peace_ '. It's the culture that's formed around society's inherent and predominant fear of lost time. The workplace has the right to ask for your time to be disclosed but, they can't treat you any differently because of it. Jisung doesn't even want to think about his company’s policies.

Jeno's got an optimistic view of it, "I'll have 2 months to love you every minute of the day." He smiles up at Jisung and gets Jisung's cheeks a soft pink because of it. His delicate touches fleeting down Jisung's bare shoulder till he's moving to kiss Jisung tenderly. Jisung hums pleasantly, leaning till Jeno's not leading anymore. "I'll kiss your lips till they're raw, Sungie." Jeno's laugh rings in his ear and he groans with embarrassment.

Jisung smiles to himself thinking about his husband. He's forced himself to not dwell on the future till it's here because Jeno pleads him to. Jeno spent their honeymoon asking Jisung to let go of his thoughts, "You think a lot." He says as they lay down for the day. Jeno takes Jisung's hand in his, "I need my _husband_ to be here with me, in the present, on our _honeymoon_." And Jeno's always had a way of making things seem less heavy than they are. It can't be completely avoided that yes, Jeno's running on extremely limited time now but, Jisung can allow himself to act like he doesn't. For Jeno, he'll act like it's not their reality.

-

Their morning routine follows the same beat every day now, Jisung's got 3 alarms set that helps him get through everything as slow and savoring as possible but still getting him to work on time. He had 2 alarms before but now, having someone else to consider, he's got to work that in.

Work starts at 8 so the first alarm stirs him awake at 6 A.M. The phone lights up; ' _Jeno_ ' is the name of this one. The alarm had come about when Jisung has realized Jeno likes to cling to Jisung and his charm works on Jisung 100% of the time. Jeno told him that he hates the morning shortly after they started dating. Jisung doesn't think anything of it because yeah, no one is ever a morning person. Jeno finally lets him know that he grows to absolutely dread mornings the morning of the first time Jisung sleeps over. Jeno hadn't clung as much as he does now, "I didn't want to scare you away." Jeno justifies. "But I hated seeing you get ready to leave me. I wanted you to stay in bed with me forever. Maybe."

Jeno now clings till he's satisfied with the amount of affection Jisung gives him. He will feel when Jisung shifts onto his side and groans loudly. Jisung can expect one of three actions every time after: 1) If Jeno's the ' _little spoon_ ', he'll hold Jisung's arm firmly. He doesn't allow Jisung to pull away and he'll try to move further into Jisung's warmth. "5 more minutes." 2) If they wake up face to face, Jeno scoots closer. His face nuzzling in between Jisung's neck and the pillow. His shallow breath fanning over Jisung's skin before he's lazily leaving kisses behind Jisung's ear. "Not yet." Jeno argues, "5 more minutes." Or 3) If Jeno's the ' _big spoon_ ', he'll press so close to Jisung's back, Jisung can feel his heartbeat on his skin. Jeno's cold hands move to rub Jisung's stomach in the way that he knows eases him. A soft, quick kiss left on his shoulder and he whispers, "5 more minutes." 5 minutes turn into another hour and Jisung falls back to sleep feeling loved.

The second alarm rings at 7 A.M. Jeno doesn't cling then. Jeno lets Jisung roll out of bed as he rolls into the middle of the bed, his tuft of hair peeking out from over the comforter and Jisung smoothes Jeno's hair over before kissing him goodbye. "Love you." Jisung whispers, pulling Jeno's cheek as he walks away to start his day and Jeno mumbles, "Love you." before his breathing evens out again. His day not starting till 10 A.M. "The perks of working from home." Jeno boasts. Jisung envies that a tad but he likes his job.

The last alarm rings at 7:20 A.M. The last warning that the bus is going to pass in 5 minutes but Jisung's got it timed just right. He makes his way to the bus stop just as the bus pulls up and he doesn't have to run or worry. The bus is a 10-minute ride to the station before he finally makes his way on to his train by 7:35 A.M. His day carries on from then, greeting his coworkers with practiced ease and booting up his computer as he makes his way to the break room for whatever the companies provided for breakfast today.

Their morning routine is so simple but Jisung holds on to the sense of normalcy and repetitive actions for his comfort. It eases his mind knowing that without a doubt Jeno will kiss him goodbye and tell him he loves him.

And today is like every day, his music accompanying him as he makes his way down the stairs to the train. But something catches his eye, something familiar and he stops to stare. Mark is sitting on the bench and to any regular person on a time crunch to catch their train, they would've forgone Mark slumped on the bench. His eyes dim and tired and his face showing obvious discomfort. Jisung moves fast and taps Mark's shoulder. Mark jolts up, "Oh, Jisung?" His eyes are unfocused and dim when Jisung meets his gaze.

Jisung smiles tightly, hearing his train pull out of the platform and he moves to sit by Mark. "Hey, are you okay?" Jisung can see just how pale Mark is this close, tensing when Mark's arm gives under his weight and he leans into Jisung.

Mark huffs, "Was making my way home and I just felt a little tired."

Jisung hums, "Do you need help going home?" Mark pulls away and Jisung moves just as fast to keep him there, "I don't feel like I should leave you alone when you look like your going to pass out."

Mark shuts his eyes, breathing in long before breathing out hard like he's really trying not to throw up. Jisung pulls out his phone, texting Chenle about being late to work and then dialing Yuta quick. Mark shakes his head as Jisung lets Yuta know he'll be an hour or two late before Yuta asks him if he just needs the day off. Jisung hums, seeing Mark's eyes flutter and his inability to hold himself up. Jisung knows Yuta won't hold it against him. Yuta's lenient about these kinda things. "I'll let you know if it's that serious."

Jisung sighs as soon as the call cuts. Mark weakly shakes his head, "You should've gone to work. Jeno's going to chew me out for keeping you here." Jisung moves to haul Mark up with him, "It's fine, Mark. Really. Now tell me are we going north or south?"

Mark hold tightens around Jisung's shoulders. "South."

-

Jisung's always found comfort in the train rides he talks in the morning. The sun is rising in the sky, it's warmth covering everything and everyone and Jisung likes to take the window seat just to soak in it. The sound of the carts on the tracks clinking and clanking as they go serve as good white noise when Jisung isn't listening to his music. The landscape of the city passes by in sweeping blurs of trees, suburbs before it starts turning into the harsh, grey tones of the downtown area that contrasts the metropolitan area Jisung resides in.

Mark's got his eyes closed the moment they catch the south train. "The lights feel too bright," Mark whispers, pinching the bridge of his nose before smoothing out the furrow of his eyebrows. Jisung moves to cover the beaming sun and Mark's face relaxes a bit. "We have two more stops though. Sorry again." Mark says.

"Stop apologizing. I feel like I wouldn't forgive myself if I would've left you there." It's just his upbringing, hanging out with Sejeong when she would do that. She was fearless and Jisung feared everything. She would've seen someone like Mark and would've told Jisung to get water, to help her help him stand up. She would've made sure Mark was left in a better state than what she found him in. Jisung can feel Sejeong nagging him in his mind, " _Check his temperature!_ " And Jisung can feel himself move to press the back of his hand under Mark's neck-- Mark hisses, holding Jisung's wrist. "Your ring is cold." He complains and Jisung mutters an apology under his breath before Mark lets his wrist go and Jisung presses his hand back to his neck gently.

"You're burning up, Mark." And although Jisung's interaction with Mark has been minimal, Jisung finds himself slipping into a comfortable silence with him as he rummages through his bag for anything that could help. Hands landing on his thermal bottle he had pulled out the fridge in a rush this morning, pulling it out and warning Mark in passing as he presses it to Mark's cheek. "How are you feeling? Did you get sick or..."

Mark moves to hold to bottle up to his skin, "I was feeling a little drained marking my way home but then it just felt like I was shutting down." Mark huffs, "I'll feel better once I get home. Mina always knows what to do."

Jisung nods, mind going off, her name sounds familiar and he wants to pry but he doesn't. He hums and lets the silence fall over them again. Mark sits up, eyes more focused than before as he looks out, their train pulling further into downtown. "This stop," Mark says, "We need to walk a couple of blocks and then we'll be there."

Mark holds onto Jisung's arm weakly as the make their way down to the gates. Jisung catches a glimpse of the street, bare and the streets filled with a lingering morning dew scent. Nothing really specific to this city but it's not inherently bad, it made the world seem smaller and more tangible by being so carbon copy and withered. Mark leads him out to the street, leading them to the west side of the station and although there are people in the streets, it's still early enough in the morning to feel the stillness and twinge of cold that carries over from the night before into the morning rather than the bustling, loudness of the city in the day.

Jisung hadn't been downtown in a long time and it's like riding a bike as he navigates his way through the streets. Mark squints, "We have one more street to pass and then we'll be there." Jisung doesn't say anything about the fact that they're walking further from the residential area and further into the construction of the west side. There a building falling apart, bricks littering the sidewalk and Mark moves them towards to alleyway better the building an a boarded up 7-11. Jisung's heart jumps when something rustles in the distance. It's so dead quiet here, Jisung feels like his labored breathing is far too loud for such a still place like this.

Mark lets go of Jisung quick and starts knocking on the brick wall, three raps of his fist on two protruding bricks over their heads, sliding his fingers delicately over crumbles of brick down by his waist and finally, he knocks once on the lightest colored brick in the center and backs up. Jisung moves quick behind him, unconsciously grasping at Mark's shirt. The wall hums lowly before the bricks seemingly vanish and the threshold to a grey room fully emerges in thin air. There's the faint clacking of footsteps falling rapidly the floor and it grows louder before a girl emerges. Her hair is falling over her shoulder looking so breathless and disheveled as she looks over Mark.

"Idiot!" She squeaks before pulling Mark closer to her and Mark lets out a tired laugh, wrapping his arms tight around her frame and Jisung can see the relief cross her face. "You went off-grid and I thought-- I thought the worst." She whispers as they pull away and Mark caresses her cheek.

"Jisung helped me get here. You can breathe now, Mina." Mark teases as he pinches her cheek and she punches his arm so hard, Mark whimpers. Mina moves to look at Jisung, "Thanks for helping him." She says, extending her hand to shake Jisung's. She's beautiful. Her bright, expressive eyes mirror Mark's, captivating and inviting but when she looks back at Mark, they shift. All the friendliness leaves and something else resides as she scowls. "You're an idiot. What did I say about leaving without checking your energy levels?"

Mark doesn't meet her eyes, looking at his shoes like any kid getting scolded by an adult would do. "I dunno what you mean," Mark says before he moves to hold Jisung's arm again. "At least you get to meet Jeno's husband now." And it clicks then for Jisung. Jeno had mentioned Mina offhandedly whenever he'd mention Mark. His friends from way back when that Jisung hadn't met. Jisung doesn't want to dwell on why he's never met them till now.

Mina's eyes soften again, "Under rather unfortunate circumstances," She turns to Jisung, "Sorry I couldn't make it. I sent our gift with Mark though."

Jisung shakes his head, "It's fine." He clears his throat, a polite smile adorning his face, "It's nice to finally meet you." Jisung assures. Mina smiles back, "How rude of me, would you like to come in?"

Mark's grip on his arm loosens, "I know you told your boss you'd be there in two hours. I wouldn't want to keep you." And Jisung knows that all he'd have to do is call Yuta again and tell him he'll work from home today and it'd be fine but something tells him he should just leave them be. Mark seems to sense this and releases his arm. Mark's lips part but just as he's about to speak, someone else does. "Standing out here with the threshold open is risky and both of you know this." He deadpans.

Mina's face falls, "We were coming back in, it hasn't even been that long and it's early enough in the morning that no one is lingering around here, Renjun."

Renjun uncrosses his arms, frown not leaving his face as he looks over Jisung. "Jeno's going to kill us if he's here." He chided. Jisung can see the worry lines on Renjun's face deepening and Mark snickers. "What's up your ass, Renjun?" Jisung tenses. He's ready to leave if this escalates to fast. Renjun is fuming, his face bright red and his nostrils flaring up. Mark lets out a bitter laugh, "You've been so worked up lately I don't even know who you are anymore."

Mark looks proud of how red Renjun gets, "Mark," Renjun starts. Mark looks at him expectantly, "System shutdown." Mark doesn't even have time to react before his body goes limp and both, Jisung and Mina running to catch him as he falls. Jisung feels so confused, out of place looking at how glazed over and grey Mark's eyes are now. The life dimmed, drained from him so fast and Mina holds him closer.

Renjun sighs, "Jisung, you should go home." Jisung's jaw hardness when they met eyes, "And don't tell Jeno you were here." He adds before retreating into the threshold.

"Mark, system reboot." Mina whispers and Jisung can feel Mark thumping against his hands. His eyes fill fast with color as he frowns. "Head hurts." He slurs and Mina hums, "I'll plug you in when we get inside. Jisung, thank you but I think you should go home. Just to be safe, okay?" Jisung finds himself nodding when they're standing up. Mark lets his weight ease onto Mina and Jisung releases him.

"Thank you Jisung." Mark grunts.

"No problem." Jisung insists, exchanging polite smiles with them as they walk in and just like that, the threshold closes-- leaving Jisung to look at a brick wall again, as everything that had just occurred didn't exist. Jisung's throat seizes up, acid reflux kicking in as he backs away and out the alleyway. His mind is racing a million miles a second as he pulls out his phone. His mind on autopilot and he doesn't even realize he's dialing Jeno tell he can hear a groggy "Babe?" on the other line. It's 8:40, of course, Jeno would still be asleep.

Jisung shallows roughly, "Hey, they're letting me work from home today." It shouldn't be this easy to lie to Jeno, it doesn't settle right within his chest, tightening as he continues, "I was wondering if you wanted anything in particular for breakfast."

Jeno groans softly and Jisung can hear the bed shift under Jeno's weight. "I'm good with anything you want." He finally answers.

"Pancakes from the shop by the house? Strawberry for you right?" Jisung makes his way back to the station, turning the corner and he sees people walking in and out of the shops. Jeno hums, "Extra strawberry please?"

Jisung's heart eases a tad and he smiles as the image of Jeno laying in bed, his eyes still closed as they talk. "Okay. I'll be home soon. Love you."

Jisung can hear the smile in Jeno's voice, "Get home safe. Love you." And the call cuts out just as Jisung walks up and onto the platform when the train pulls in.

( _Yuta replies to Jisung's text with a thumbs up just as Jisung gets home. Jeno greets Jisung with a sleepy smile, inviting arms, and even more inviting kisses. Jeno eases all the worries and tension in Jisung the moment he pulls him in bed.)_

-

Jisung’s ankles roll oddly as the pebbles under his shoes become more predominant. There are tire skid marks all up the sidewalks and the pebbles that once lined the trees, scatter along the bend. Jeno kicks one down the grate and Jisung reaches for his hand to steady himself. He frowns, “I wish someone would fix those.”

Jeno chuckles, kicking another pebble along before they turn the street. The north star coming into view just a couple paces away and Jisung shakes his foot. The air crisp on his tongue, all the shops— restaurants, discount book stores, and trinket stops— having their doors wide open to entice a potential customer in. The mix of the old pages on an old book, different spices wafting around, and that lingering scent of wet asphalt, that’s what makes Jisung feel the comfort in his chest he’s feeling. 

All the pockets of memories from years of coming down this street. His eyes taking in every color like always and making mental notes of where’s what. Jisung loves SunPass Village. He loves the way it just _is_ , it’s whatever you want it to be but it’s also something you can’t change. Every shop lining the village feels cozy, feels small and family-owned. It’s something the residents take pride in— being a hole-in-the-wall once in a lifetime experience. But at the end of the street, tucked between a pawn shop and small finery, the north star rests. 

“We could’ve just gotten delivery.” Jisung comments off passing, his eyes trained on the flowers displayed beautifully by the windowsill. Jeno drops his hand as he pushes the door open. “What’s the fun in that?” Jeno argues as he grabs the menu from the stand and looking over it like he won’t order the same thing again. 

The sound of cutlery against plates, the sizzling of meat and small talk buzz in Jisung’s ears. Such a familiar mix of white noise and today, it seems weird. Maybe it’s the lingering feelings he’s had since that day downtown or mild acid reflux, Jisung really couldn’t tell you. 

The faux leather of the booth squeaks under him from old age and Jeno moves to adjusts the napkins as always. It’s easy to fall into their habits like this. Jisung’s ankle hooks over Jeno’s as they order, Jeno’s fingers twitching against the table as Jisung’s foot slides higher and Jisung knows he’s sensitive. He does it for kicks and for that pout Jeno’s gives him. Jeno breaks his chopsticks apart, picking at the orange chicken on Jisung’s plate before deciding he doesn’t want it and he nibbles at his broccoli. “We should start sorting out my stuff soon.”

Jisung shoves the orange chicken in his mouth harshly, the end of the chopstick hitting his wedding band as he does so and it falls limply to the ground. Jisung sighs, “Yeah. I suppose.” 

They’ve talked about this in passing but with two weeks left and no end in sight, Jeno’s final days are closing in. One of the few things a soon to be deceased had to do included sorting out your belongings. It’s not a set thing but more of a tradition. Loved ones can pick out items they want to hold onto from those passing and those passing can control where their stuff ends up after. Most people treat it like regular spring cleaning but Jisung has been dreading the day. “I don’t want you to have to deal with all that once I’m…”

Jeno pushes his beef aside, “I’m just saying it’d be smarter to do it when we get home today. We weren’t going to do anything anyways.” 

Jisung curls his toes in his shoes. It seems like everything’s moving to fast again, like the month after they had gotten married and everything breezed by in a blink of an eye. Jeno chews loudly and Jisung immediately thinks ‘ _I’m going to miss that’_. He leans on his hand as he pushes his food around, “What if I want to keep everything?”

Jeno smiles, “I’ll just have to coax you out of it.” 

-

Jeno spends his last Monday with his family as Jisung goes to work. His wishes being that he’d like for Jisung to only be there for his last few minutes. Jeno’s mother agrees reluctantly as Jisung drops him off Sunday night. “I’ll see you on Tuesday.” Jeno’s lips landing on his and he forgets to breathe for a second. He leaves Jeno with a kiss under his jaw and a promise to pick him up on Tuesday. 

His work gives him his requested time off, ending two weeks from now and it’s even time to grieve— or so the government thinks. But Jisung takes it anyways, spends Monday night setting up last minute arrangements for the… funeral, Jeno’s funeral, and his heart weighs heavy. Jeno’s mom blows up his phone, telling him to triple check everything because her son will not have a less than a stellar wake. Jisung agrees.

He slumps into his desk chair, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, his tie loose and his eyes lifelessly reading over all the arrangements for the fifth time. His eyes water over as he closes the tab and he turns his monitor off. It was easier last week to let Jeno’s plan his arrangements because it felt like it wasn’t affecting Jisung directing, it felt unreal. But now, with loneliness and sadness settling into his chest rapidly, Jisung realizes how fast the end of the week is approaching. 

He tries to push back the bad taste in his mouth by the time he swings by his in-laws to get Jeno. There’s a smile on his face, peace in his eyes as he says goodbye to his family, to his cats. Jeno’s mother waves Jisung over. She looks tired and worn out but not as sad as he’d thought she’d be. She motions for his hand, his palm coming up and she lays a silver chain onto it. It’s got the Lee family crest on it, a baby breaths charm hanging off the center and Jisung registers what it is. “I shouldn’t.”

She shakes her head. “When my husband died, Jeno made me drawings of this very flower.” She smiles warmly, “It’s such a small trivial thing looking back it now but it gave me such comfort during my grieving. I hope it brings you comfort, Jisung.”

-

The chain weight heavy in his shorts but pushes any thought of it away. His attention shifts to Jeno— to Jeno and trying to soak in as much of him as possible before Sunday. 

Jisung stuffs every moment, every detail of Jeno into every nook and cranny of his being before it's too late. He lets Jeno kiss his lips till their tender and then kiss down his neck. He lets Jeno cling and comfort him the way he wants to because Jeno _wants_ to die in Jisung’s arms and that’s okay. 

Saturday feels dreadful despite Jeno’s best efforts to cheer him up. Not much is spoken because it doesn’t have to be. Jisung knows Jeno’s content in his arms, his ear pressed against his chest so he can hear Jisung’s heartbeat. They eat side by side, never _not_ touching each other and Jisung appreciates it. 

The clock strikes eleven and Jeno changes into his best outfit, claims into bed and peers at Jisung standing in the doorway. Jeno pushes his hair back, the timer on his arm visible as it counts down to less than an hour. “Jisung,” He calls, crawling towards the edge so he pull Jisung close. His palms are so soothing on his back as they kiss, savoring and Jisung’s holds him hard against his chest after. Jeno’s breath comes lukewarm nine minutes till. “Jisung, I love you.” His nose pressed against Jisung’s cheek as they lay wrapped up.

A tear slides down Jisung’s cheek, the clock reading eleven fifty-eight— his heart skips a beat. “Jeno, I will always love you.” 

The clock strikes midnight on Sunday as Jeno’s eyes close slowly, a gentle smile lingering on his face as his hold on Jisung’s sweater loosens and his breath evens out. The timer on his arm empty.

-

_I will always love you, Jeno Lee._

-

_Jisung._

_The fine man you’ve grown into now has been astonishing to see. You’ve flourished into your own as the more you understood how the world works and it’s been my pleasure to aid you in getting your footing on the world. You might not think it, but I know you’ve made your mark on the world and will continue until the world is puddy at your will. I’ve told you how I feel about you for years, platonically and when I started to think about kissing the delights out of you almost all day, every day until I confessed. Nothing compares to how I was instantly drawn to you when we met._

_Something about how awkwardly you navigate yourself, cute button nose and gummy smile; I’ll admit, Jisung, the world was already puddy then. I hadn’t gathered my thoughts or had even tried to put into words what that had meant for me; For the center of my world to shift and it’d be you. I’m oblivious, we’re both fools, but it was clear to me that I didn’t want a life without Jisung Park by my side. The greatest kid to ever live._

_Beautiful, Ethereal and_ _Evil I’m kidding_ _Kind Hearted. The brightness of a million stars couldn’t outshine that smile you so graciously allow me to see. Whether it’s directly related to something I’ve done to pull it out of you or when you’re tired, clingy and your walls are down, especially when my cats greet you when you come over you. Sometimes I wonder if you love them more than me._

_Jisung, you’ve taught me patience. You’ve taught me to see the world for what it’s worth and not what it seems to be. I’ve learned to enjoy the smallest things in life because sometimes those are the most important, everlasting things that shape you. Pocketing all those moments into my heart where you’ve kissed me, slow and sleepy and you mumble about how much you love me, how “addictive” this is or when you smile at me for no reason. I’ve caught you staring and you’ll usually look away but sometimes, you’ll stare, the softest smile on your lips and you tell me, unprompted, that you love me. I can feel that you love me and Jisung, I love you._

_My heart is yours to keep under lock and key for eternity. When the earth stops turning, when the universe implodes, for, whatever happens, my heart will always be yours._

_But, for the sake of your husband, please don’t hog the pillows!_

-

Jeno’s funeral is a quiet and quick waking with just a handful of friends and family members seeing to his burial by the tree Jeno loved to point out during the spring when the flowers bloomed pastel pink. He’d always look at it when they drove by the cemetery and would admire it when the flowers displayed their beauty. Jisung thinks Jeno’s going to love it when the flowers bloom right over his plot, the flowers will fall on him for eternity and for all long as he’s laid to rest here.

Jisung doesn’t cry. He’s done enough crying over Jeno’s short life during his lifetime. He spends the entire descension of Jeno’s casket holding onto Sejeong’s hand tight. Her familiar scent washing over him, comforting him as he sees Jeno’s casket come out of view the lower it goes— moving only when he’s asked if he wants to shove the first handful of dirt onto the casket. Sejeong walks with him, a bouquet of white lilies in her hand and they both drop them sparsely over the casket only for them to be covered in dirt the moment Jisung starts the burial. 

Everyone’s quiet, no one dares to move as they watch more and more dirt ensure Jeno’s casket will stay in this plot. No one talks but Jisung is still holding Sejeong tight, Jeno’s mother now moving to hold his other arm just as tight. Everyone tickles out, bidding their goodbyes to the mourning family and Jisung thanks them for their comfort and support. 

Mina walks carefully up to him, “He was a great man.” She says, Mark and Renjun closely behind her and Jisung squared his shoulders the moment Renjun makes eye contact with him. Softening his posture only when Mina reaches over to hold his hands in hers, something so comforting and Jisung’s body jerks like he’s going to cry. “I’ll miss him but Jisung, it’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to be sad. Dying is a sad thing.” She assures him and with that, she leaves. Leaves Jisung to stand there under the cherry blossom tree, numb and utterly sad at the death of his husband. 

He knew this day was coming, he had spent the majority of life with Jeno preparing to outlive him but no amount of preparation or years spent trying to convince himself it wasn’t going to be a sad thing could ever prepare him for the hollow feeling settling in his chest next to every memory, every kiss, every warm palm on his skin or soft yelp, every bit of Jeno ingrained into Jisung’s very soul lies next to the emptiness and reality of being a widower; The reality of the timers and their relation to their lives. 

Jisung loves Jeno and even now, looking at the freshly patted down patch of soil that keeps him in the earth, Jisung loves Jeno more than anything else in the world and he’ll always, always have the joy of having been able to live alongside Jeno till the end of his life. 

-

Jisung shoves the chain link into the box full of Jeno’s things a month later, when his heart aches a little less than before but still… aches. He brushes over the fabric of the wool sweater resting over the pile of Jeno’s journals and photos. It’s faded into a rusty red, the wool worn, lived in and if Jisung runs his fingers down the front, the yarn will catch under his nails. He pulls it out and smiles, bunching the fabric in his hands and he buries his nose into the seam. Smells like autumn— crispy air and crunchy leaves and wet asphalt in the first days of fall. It smells like home; It smells like Jeno. He folds the sweater neatly, closing the box and he tucks it under his bed. The comforter concealing it like a secret. His best kept secret. 

The first snow of the year falling outside his window and he rubs the tip of his cold nose as he leans closer to see people frantically rushing home to avoid when traffic kicks in. The street light blinks awake outside his window, the fairy lights coiling down it like vines and he can see the Christmas decorations already falling off their perch. “Typical.” He mumbles under his breath as he pushes off the windowsill. 

He plucks his keys off the bedside, rapping his knuckles gently against the picture frame of Jeno and grabs his jacket on the bed. “Yerim!” He pats his pockets, wallet, phone and keys— check. His thumb running over his ring finger— wedding ring … check. He pulls the scarf off the back of the couch and turns towards Yerim’s door. “Yerim?”

There’s a thud behind her door softly, a brief giggle before her door opens enough for her to poke her head out. Her hair ruffled and he sighs, “Do you want your regular?” 

She smiles, “Yes.”

He juts his chin out, “Guanheng, do you want _your_ regular?” Yerim’s face falls before she sighs and he hears footsteps getting closer, Guanheng’s face coming into view. “Chow mein please.” Yerim pushes him back, smiling at Jisung nervously before shutting her door and he follows to make his way out of the apartment. “Call the shop!” He hollers as the door closes.

The dry winter wind nips at his cheeks the moment he pushes the building door open. A biker whizzing by him and he steps back, pulling his jacket closer before setting off. The north star isn’t too far and he’s sure he can make it before the snow starts to pile up high. The thinly snow veiled sidewalks crunching under his shoes and so satisfying it his ear but the tips of them getting wetter the farther he walks out— he can hear Jeno’s voice clear in his head. “ _Should’ve worn your rain boots, babe._ ” 

Jisung shakes the snow off his shoe, “I really should’ve.” 

Not many people are still out, the soup shop just around the corner is full to the brim and when Jisung passes it, he can _feel_ the heat on his tongue. He kicks a stray pebble down the drain because he _can_ and no one is around to say anything. The streets clear faster in their area seeing as everyone wants the perfect picturesque spots two blocks down for their ‘ _First snow_ ’ posts. That’s fine, it makes his trip easier. 

His stomach tugs uneasy and he sighs. It’s a familiar feeling. He stops walking, “Are you going to keep following me or are you going to talk to me about what ever the fuck you want?” 

He turns and Renjun squints at him. “Watch yourself.”

Jisung scoffs, “Watch _myself?!_ You’re the one following _me_ and quite frankly, I’m not in the mood.” 

Renjun gnaws at his bottom lip as he advances forward. He pulls his hat over his ear and nudges Jisung. Jisung frowns, nudging Renjun back before moving out of his reach. Renjun groans, “Just keep walking and we’ll talk.”

Jisung sighs deeply, hurrying a little ahead Renjun before either of them talks. It feels unsettling walking down the street with someone who _isn’t_ Jeno. It’s been so long since he’s spent time with someone else like this. The snow is starting to pick up, the bends of the sidewalks collecting every snowflake and he watches as a snowflake eases it's way down to the ground in front of him. The tips of his ears burn cold and he tucks his chin further into his scarf. “I want to apologize.”

Jisung doesn’t speak up. “The last time we talked, I acknowledge I was a dick.” Renjun’s nose scrunches, his fingers curling over his sleeves when he peers up at Jisung. “It’s been bothering me, having you view me like that.”

“So you’re trying to save face?” 

Renjun stops walking, frowning, “ _No_! I’m trying to mend this. I,” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I feel a sense of obligation to Jeno to fix this. I loved him as my brother and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I left that impression on you.”

Jisung’s face hardens, his tongue running over his teeth and he moves forward. Renjun watches him carefully, “Don’t apologize to me out of obligation to my husband. Don’t be nice to _me_ because it’ll bug _you_.” Jisung turns away. The north star coming into his view and he can hear Renjun stomp his foot on the grate. “Fuck you! I’m trying to be nice.”

Jisung sprints across the crosswalk, “You suck at being nice you asshole!” He yells, pulling the door open and letting it shut with a loud thud.


End file.
